Email subject line for employment

CREDIT PROFILE

• * Current credit cards you are the primary account holder of:
• Capital One Venture X ($20,000 limit, Opened 12/2022, Used for all spending other than gas and groceries
• American Express Blue Cash Preferred ($8,000 limit, opened 2/2022, Used for gas and groceries only)
• * FICO Scores with source (Equifax 809, Experian 820, TransUnion 803)
• * Oldest credit card account age with you as primary name on the account: 25 years Kohls Department card opened by my parents in my name
• * Number of personal credit cards approved for in the past 6 months: 0
• * Number of personal credit cards approved for in the past 12 months: 0
• * Number of personal credit cards approved for in the past 24 months: 2
• * Annual income $: (Gross Household Income 175k)

CATEGORIES

• * OK with category-specific cards?: Yes
• * OK with rotating category cards?: No
• * Estimate average monthly spend in the categories below.
  • * Dining $: 500
  • * Groceries $: 500
  • * Gas $: 500
  • * Travel $: All travel paid for with Capital One Venture X points
  • * Do you plan on using this card abroad for a significant length of time (study abroad, digital nomad, expat, extended travel)?: No
  • * Any other categories (examples: phone/internet, insurance) or stores (example: Amazon) with significant, regular credit card spend (the more you specify, the better): N/A
  • * Any other significant, regular credit card spend you didn't include above?: Hobbies/Leisure $500
  • * Can you pay rent by credit card? If yes, list rent amount and if there's a fee for paying by credit card: No

MEMBERSHIPS & SUBSCRIPTIONS (delete lines that don't apply)

• * Current member of Amazon Prime?: Yes
• * Current Verizon postpaid customer?: No
• * Current member of Costco or Sam's Club? Yes Costco
• * Currently paying $13.99/month or more for Disney Bundle (Disney+ / Hulu / EPSN+) or other Hulu services? No
• * Current member of Chase, US Bank or any other big bank?: N
• * Active US military?: No
• * Are you open to Business Cards?: (these are an option if you have any kind of side gig, such as selling on eBay or Etsy) No

PURPOSE

• * What's the purpose of your next card (choose ONE)?: To get membership point reward bonus for big purchases that come with first time home buying.
  • * If you answered "first credit card", are you an authorized user on any other cards?
  • * If you answered "balance transfer", please give details as to why:
  • * If you answered "travel rewards", do you have a preferred airline and/or hotel chain? Usually fly Delta
• * Do you have any cards you've been looking at? Yes - I have been looking at the promo for Chase Sapphire Preferred as well as the American Express Gold (Just got email promo 90k membership points for $4000 spent in the first 6 months for Amex Gold)

I think someone or some group should analyze the various results on this Reddit and let us know what works. I have use tDCS for attention improvement for over 5 years. I can only say that I feel I do get benefits from improved attention in mental and physical activities from using tDCS. Can I point to a number or percentage of improvement? No. There is also the question of the placebo effect. That is you think there is a positive effect, but it is just because you think so.
I have been using tDCS +F3 –F4, 2mA or +F3 –Fp2, 2mA. It seems to me that without me even trying, that I can see better and have clarity of thought. I do not have extraneous thoughts going through my mind, which would distract my train of thought. There are published studies on this subject and I have read them and feel the benefits apply to me. How do I prove this when I am a study of one and cannot blind myself to the use of tDCS?
Here is what we want. Someone or some group should analyze all the reports on this Reddit to see what are the predominant findings. I know that scientists look at this Reddit to find out what DIYers do and even comment.
What have I done? I posted here about a year ago that I was going to use tDCS while I was playing Tetris. I would play a game without tDCS, with tDCS and immediately after tDCS. I would use 3 different montages and use a control. That is I would play Tetris three time without any tDCS. What I have learned (A LOT)?
Tetris is a game that speeds up as you play, so it gets harder. Because it is random as to what problems or pieces get presented to you every game is different. This is the problem, but I have still learned from it. I have an Excel spreadsheet with about 50 columns and three games per column. To analyze this I feel I need to use parametric statistics and I am not that good at that. Anyone that feels they have a way to test various montages quantitatively, I would be willing to listen.
What have I learned? My highest games, I mean by lines completed, is while using tDCS. The 4 modes of tDCS I have used are LiftID, +F3 –F4, 2mA, DARPA and control. The highest number of lines I have gotten is 105 with +F3 and 100 with DARPA. This could be by chance, but I am learning.
What I would like to do is find a random game that I can test the various montages having to do with attention and reaction time. I know this is asking a lot, but I know there are smart people out there. Can we get a central repository for all this information?

Basically the title. I was having an ongoing issue where all my posts in this particular subreddit were getting deleted. I reached out to the mods, and instead of getting a solid answer they started being condescending. They essentially said that my posts were “low-effort” whatever that means to them. Very subjective clearly. I said alright. I ignored the issue and continued on with my life. Then I started visiting this subreddit again and I saw how there were a huge amount of this so-called low-effort posts, clearly made for karma farming. However they were not being deleted for whatever reason. I reached out to them again with the same issue, and they pretty much said “sometimes they just fall through the cracks”and “there are thousand of posts and very few of us” something along the lines. Today I finally made another post thinking maybe if I let some time pass this issue will resolve itself, but no, the post got immediately deleted. I lashed out against the Reddit mod and instead of getting an actual human answer I got permanently banned from the subreddit for being “rude, inappropriate, and vulgar” mind you this wasn’t even against other Redditors but to the mods. I got so infuriated cause I couldn’t even reply back. So I made an alt account to message them again and after some back and forth that wasn’t going anywhere I finally cooled down.
TLDR; I created an alt account to cuss a Reddit moderator for banning my main account because they were unhelpful and condescending

I got an email yesterday that I got shortlisted for the SPARK SMP internship that I applied to, and they are sending my application to the employer for them to evaluate and decide who to offeinterview. Did anyone else get this? Also wondering how selective the process will be at this next stage.
Also, does anyone really know anything about the SPARK SMP programs (used to be called SPARK SIP)?? I couldn't really find much about past student experiences or anything so I'm basically looking for more guidance/info about it.

Hey guys not sure if this is the right place for this but I'll go ahead anyway as I want to hear your opinions!
As you all know the pixel 8a recently came out and it seems like a really good midrange like the 7a but general concensus is that getting the 8 is better since with discounts they are basically at the same price I'm daily driving a OnePlus 8T and the battery is pretty much cooked at this point and the phone sometimes has some random ass bugs, that's why I was looking at the market for something else
Now here's the kicker, for some reason in my country through a special deal I am able to get an 8a for 200€ instead of the normal 550€ it released as! And this changes everything since it's now +300€ cheaper than the 8
Now for that price it seems like an awfully good deal, I wondered if trying to save for a couple months and getting the 8 would be better but even if I do end up getting a better pixel or oneplus down the line this was still a very good deal and can always pass to phone to my GF
I mainly use my phone for work (video calls and a lot of texting/emails) and videos (mostly YouTube), I would also like to take more photos but I'm not really a fan of the 8T camera even with gcam I've also been using the goggle assistant more lately and overall it's been good altough he messes up what I say often
So with the 8a I feel like I could have pretty much the perfect phone for all that for a banging price but since the phone is new I'm here to ask for your opinions
Basically the question is: go for it? Or wait a couple months and get something better (probably a pixel/OP/nothing as I don't see myself getting anything else these days)? (Although I'm a lot less willing to spend 500+ on a phone than I was back in the day for my OP 5T and 8T)

Caroline slowly came to awareness, her mind foggy as if emerging from a deep trance. She tried to blink, but her eyelids wouldn't cooperate - she couldn't feel them at all. Or her eyes for that matter.
Panic shot through her formless consciousness as she attempted to move, to cry out, to do anything to confirm she still possessed a corporeal form. But there was...nothing. No physical sensations, no bodily impulses. Just a hollow, senseless void.
Think! She willed her mind, the only faculty that seemed intact. How did I end up like...whatever this is?
Fractured memories pieced themselves together. She recalled the strange recurring dreams she'd been having for over a month now - hyper-realistic visions of her as a nameless, faceless mannequin trapped in a endless corridor lined with mirrors.
No matter which path she took, no matter which limbs she willed into motion, the mirrors only reflected her blank, featureless form back in a haunting recursion of emptiness.
Night after night, she had awoken from the dreams in a cold sweat, her waking form perfectly intact and human. She had tried dismissing them as just unsettling figments of imagination.
Until the night of the accident...
Caroline's mindform jolted as the memories regenerated in harsh clarity. The rain-slicked road...the truck jackknifing across the median...a blinding impact before everything went black.
She had been rushed to the hospital in gruesome condition, her body broken and mangled beyond recognition. The doctors prepped her for radical reconstructive procedures, inducing a medical coma to ease her physical trauma while they worked.
And somewhere in the long lapse between consciousness, her mind's metaphysical tether had detached from the battered flesh...only to awaken bodiless in this infinite existential void.
Oh god, she thought, mind racing with the horrific realization. This was no dream - this was the undiscovered oblivion between life and death...where the unfinished lay in limbonic purgatory.
As if roused by her awakening, ephemeral shapes began to coalesce around Caroline's astral form. Humanoid figures, shadowform and indistinct like rough pencil scribbles come to semi-life. Features barely took shape - blank ovals for faces, spindly line-boundaries forming stick-figure geometries.
The shades approached, silent and innumerable. Caroline tried to recoil but her mindform remained stationary, subject to the aimless currents of the void like a jellyfish in the deep ocean swell.
One of the shades extended a wispy limb, the tip dividing into filaments that wormed their way directly into Caroline's disconnected consciousness. She flinched at the sudden violation, unable to even scream as the digits rapidly composed an image she knew with dawning horror.
The mannequin from her dreams. Featureless and posed in an eternal, flailing mid-motion captured in Ruben's Vase-like perspective down an endless hall of reflections.
Caroline's own formless awareness had quite literally become a living waking nightmare, deprived of all physical form or agency. She was nothing more than a rough draft of existence now, pending...for what exactly?
Deletion? Reconstruction? An eternal consciousness transposed into an endless purgatorial regression of faceless, inanimate confinement?
The shades swarmed her floundering mind, inscribing their hollow inscrutability into the only tether remaining of herself. No matter how much she attempted to retreat, there was no escape from the truth she now understood with horrific cosmic clarity:
She was the Unfinished - the unmade betweenlife severed from all context of corporeality or sentience. An orphaned soul reduced to the blank slates of pre-creation torment.
Caroline's existence would spend itself eternally trying to reconstitute the illusion of existing from the bottomless void separating states of being. Always incomplete. Forever in agonizing protraction from manifesting... or breaking the vicious cycle once and for all.

First off, my apologies for this very long post...It's hard for me to word this out as my communication skills are very bad.
My therapist told me I need to work on the two above so I bought a workbook on each of them. So far I am working on the Assertiveness workbook. I am having a lot of analysis paralysis with trying to understand the concepts and was wondering if anyone had an idea on how to approach this.
According to my workbook this is the definition of Assertiveness: Not a strategy for getting your own way, but instead recognizes you're in charge of your own behaviour and decide what you'll want to do and not do and accepting the consequences and the responsibility for your actions (same for others). Similar to having a sense of agency. There is no attempt to take control from one another. When you are being assertive, you're making a deliberate and conscious choice.
Boundaries, I haven't dived deep into it, but from what I am getting: it's something YOU do and not others (a.k.a. it's not about changing the other person) (i.e.) if you call me during work hours, I will not pick up. or if you call me names, I will walk away from the situation.
This sounds like it is heavily subjective and depended on person to person then. One of the examples in workbook, word by word: "Rather than say our coworker shouldn't be handing us her own work (controlling her behavior), we can simple inform her that we won't be doing it (controlling our own way)" ^so from what I understand, you can have boundaries and apply assertiveness but can still be seen as a jerk, rude, problematic? I.e. a kid saying no to their parent. Employer to boss, or person with higher authority. You just have to be ready to accept the consequences of your deliberate, conscious choice (possibility of getting arrested, fired, etc.)
So tying into applying stoicism + virtues. I am thinking the same thing, that it's all subjective at the end of the day? One of the ones I am thinking about is JUSTICE. Example: going through an unfair breakup and the other person is stone-walling you. So you want to take matters on your end and speak of the unfair treatment even if it means going to the other party's side (friends, family). Some people might think that it's unhinged or doing too much, but what if it helps give you that closure or aligns with your understanding/BELIEFS of what JUSTICE is? (very SUBJECTIVE)
Like this is quite extreme, but justice also implies that it relates to morality too, but there are factors like culture, religion and personal experience that shapes one's morals. For example one part of the world, maybe it's moral to execute someone who was a murderer or raped someone. So if I carried that belief while claiming to want to practice stoicism, is that right?
I am just confused on the whole black/white, right/wrong/, effective/non-effective. How do I see gray in all of this? It's causing a lot of confusion, sorry for my long message and if this might not make sense as I am trying to rewire a lot of old toxic behaviours from my upbringing. I am worried that I may be practicing stoicism wrong (still in the introduction phase), because I have had people close to me tell me sometimes I think I am being fair, but then I was actually controlling and demanding, which I seriously was unaware (due to cognitive distortion, being a late-bloomer, my toxic upbringing, etc.) So I am grateful for my friends for bringing awareness to my "unfair" judgements.

as titled, I recently realized a certain loophole where"If a foreign worker secures employment with a cap-exempt employer, the foreign worker can thereafter have a cap-subject employer file for H-1B concurrent employment."
so for most f1 phds, getting a postdoc is a piece of cake, using that academic h1b to interview to hopefully secure a part-time industry job should be possible [it wouldn't be easy, but possible]. and certainly easier than doing the lottery where it is not even something can be solved by working harder

Just to clarify, we aren't trying to have a baby, but a condom slipped out about 2 or 3 weeks ago and had precum inside of it. And now she's a week late. She did a blood pregnancy test yesterday as well as a pregnancy test from cvs(cvs brand, blue line) and the cvs test came back negative. The blood test was emailed to us today and was also negative.
And this morning she also did an additional 2 blue line tests with the cvs brand and also came back negative.
The reason we're extra worried is because she has been feeling nauseated and was throwing up this morning.
How worried should we be guys? Thanks for any help! 🙏

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Hey! So I'm really struggling and could use some advice from other autistic adults. For context, my wife and I have been together for about eight years now (married for one) and she's the best person on the planet. Genuinely my best friend, favorite brain to pick, life partner, and someone who I deeply love. She had ADD and I have AudHD, depression, and anxiety.
I just recently found out that I'm autistic in the past few years. I only found out because I was having frequent shutdowns and ultimately had to do some intensive outpatient therapy to avoid being hospitalized. Finding out that I was autistic was a huge game changer. It contextualized a lot about myself and my relationship. I also found out that a significant portion of my depression is autistic burnout (explaining why depression was medication treatment resistant). My partner has been my biggest supporter. She's spent countless hours researching autism, burnout, and trying to understand the way I work. In addition, she has picked up a considerable amount of slack around the house and is doing virtually all of our combined finances. I left my solid paying job to soul search and find something that would be more compatible with who I am. Unfortunately, truly taking time off was not an economic option.
Ultimately, I decided to follow my passion to become a teacher. It has been great, it's routine oriented, comes in spurts, always has an end date, and gives plenty of time off. I am looking forward to celebrating my first summer break of my adult life (and teaching career) in the coming weeks. The only problem, is that in addition to being a first year teacher I had to go through the certification process. This was extensive. I took a half dozen test, a bunch of undergrad classes in my subject, and 30 graduate credits - all in a little over a year.
This was a crazy schedule and, predictably, left me more burnt out. I have now graduated with my masters, finished the licensure process, and have settled into my role. Over course of this process my wife has been nothing short of amazing. As I mentioned above, she took on the lions share of the work and assured me that it was to help me get to the finish line, get better, and be able to recover over the summer. As time has gone on, doing all of this is starting to, very understandably, leave her burnout. She's made it clear to me that “just because an action has a negative consequence doesn't mean it's wrong.” However, seeing ten stress she has been under and her burnout increase has absolutely ruined my already shaky confidence and ability to feel like an equal partner. To be frank I haven't been one. I simply have not been able to. Everytime I try to add more housework, or even just little things for my wife like making her coffee in the morning, my burnout induced demand avoidance makes my fight or flight kick in. As we get closer to my break, the cracks in her facade of being OK with taking on such an extra burden has begun to appear. To be clear, I do not begrudge her for that. She's doing so much for us, and just for me.
I am really struggling to find things I can do to help her feel valued and to take back on more of the household load. I know summer about to start and things might change then, but the idea of taking on even something as innocuous as the litter box or dishes absolutely terrifies me. I want to do these things, and so much more, to lessen her load and make her feel appreciated but simply fail at being able to turn that will into action. As a result, this has made me very insecure about our relationship which only frustrates her more.
I really don't know if this is a rant or if I'm asking for advice - either way I appreciate you for making it this far. I just really want to be a better partner but feel so limited in the ways I can do so. I feel terrible as my wife will suggest things that aren't household load/management related like planning nice dates but my brain turns even those into demands that need to be avoided. In many ways I feel like I have become like an injured pet she needs to take care of rather than a proper husband. I hate feeling like this. I'm afraid that when summer comes I won't magically have more spoons and it'll continue like this. That will only make us both more frustrated as it's definitely not fair for her to be working, paying our bills, and doing the housework while I, uh, do nothing over the summer. I need to figure out how to step up and be the husband deserves.
Since being diagnosed, I have found so much autistic joy and many strategies to make my life better. This is truly the one area that makes me feel lesser than for being autistic. Even then I feel like I am just autisming wrong somehow and that this is a personal failing.
If you have any advice on how to set myself up for success, recovery, and being a better partner this summer I would love to hear it.

Back in October of last year, I was able to find (after a challenging search) a supervisor that was able to take me on as their trainee. I got officially licensed as a trainee in January of this year, and have been getting lots of work from this guy. He purposefully overbooks work as the market is uncertain right now to stay busy. He has a certain way he wants these reports written, and I have done my best to conform to the style that he likes. Back in March, I was sick upon returning from military duty (even ended up in the ER and he let me know I could take a couple of days to recover before I came back to work. At that time I had over five appraisal assignments on my desk (even though I’ve only been a licensed trainee just for a couple of months). After those two days, he called me, cussing me over the phone, asking me why several of the appraisal assignments that I was assigned were not finished yet. Then he told me that I am not going to ‘fuck up’ his company like the ‘last guy he fired back in January did’. This really threw me off, but he told me he doesn’t hold grudges and I apologized profusely, and moved on. Today an assignment due (that I had finished for several days, with the exception of lot photos being taken) (Supervisor said he would do this, it is in writing in an email). when he called this morning and asked when he was able to review this, I told him everything was done except for the pictures, and that if I needed to drive up there to get those photos if he didn’t get a chance to. He told me he didn’t have a chance to take the photos but that he would drive up there to the property and get them today. Well, he gets back to the office to review the report and says I did a shitty job and that is one of the worst reports I’ve ever written (although I know I did a good job). He always encourages us to call the client to get an ARV on their new construction or renovation homes, and to heavily consider that when developing our opinion of value. I was able to develop the opinion of value that both supports the clients ARV and lines up with new construction comparables that are close by. He sends me an email and tells me that he had to rewrite the entire report and that this wasted his entire day and that he is very upset with me, this is not allowed to happen again. I was very confused, so I asked what was wrong with the report, and he told me that I waited until last minute to tell him that we didn’t have pictures (although he said he would take them???). I proceeded to ask what else was wrong with the report so that way I don’t make the same mistakes again, and his response was that ‘the entire report was wrong and then I waited till the last minute and then I need to move on and learn from my mistakes’. I have almost 300 training hours logged with this guy and just need to get him to sign the forms to submit them to the state. I just wanted to know, is this normal? I know this profession can be tough, but is this how trainees are usually treated? Just looking for some insight and encouragement. I just had a new baby with my wife, work three jobs, and this has been a very hard day.

This year my school got a new principal and she has made it her mission to make me miserable. I am a 12 year teacher and I teach special education and I love what I do. But goddamn if this woman doesn’t hate my guts for no reason! Constantly picking and bullying and when she can’t come up with a reason to talk down to me, it seems to fuel her fire. Tomorrow I have to take off for court in the am (I’m a witness not defendant lol) and I’m going to the dermatologist later. I put in for ONE SICK DAY and she immediately emailed me asking me to bring a doctor’s note for Thursday. I live in Virginia and the state code says that after three consecutive days an employer can ask for documentation. But ONE FUCKING DAY?! I looked at my absence balances and this year I have taken 7.8 sick days, including tomorrow’s time. Did I mention that SHE has now been out 17 days since winter break?…INCLUDING TODAY.
Also I got so fed up with her treatment that I recently got a job in a different district. Because of this, I have been slowly packing and removing my items from my classroom to make my life easier. She had the NERVE today to have someone come in my room to do an inventory of the items the school purchased over the last 10 or so years to make sure nothing “walked out of the building….” Ma’am. MA’AM. Jokes on her, it was all there. But this has been the theme of my treatment all year. I have never had a single complaint from an administrator, parent, or coworker. This woman has an issue with me on some deep personal level and it’s as if every time something positive is said about me or happens to me, she tries to knock me down a few pegs. I’m just losing my mind at this point and I cannot wait to never see her again.

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Hey everyone, wanted some feedback on my school list, is it too top heavy? I think I am a strong applicant, and I have dreams of a T10 acceptance, but I’m not sure if I’m overestimating my competitiveness, or if I need a reality check.
Stats: ORM, NY resident, T30 Undergrad, 2023 grad (so two gap years) GPA: 4.00, Psych Major MCAT: Score coming back 6/11, FL average was 524, but felt rushed on cars so I probably did a little lower than FL avg.. Predicting 519-522 score, very unlikely to be below 518.
Narrrative: Overall, pretty strong ”mental health in medicine” narrative backing up my PS and experiences.
Research: 1500 hours clinical psychiatry research (4 year commitment) 2 published abstracts, 1 first author paper in review, 1 second author paper in review, presented at 1 professional conference, received a $1000 research grant from my uni.
Clinical Employment: 650 hours split between two inpatient mental health facilities
Non-Clinical Employment: 150 hours as lumberyard worker
Clinical Volunteering: 75 hours as behavioral health aide, helping w autistic children.
Non-Clinical Volunteering: 150 hours at Crisis text line
Leadership: 200 hours as high school & K-5 wrestling coach
Shadowing: 100 hours, between Internal Medicine & Neurology
LORs: 1 science prof, 1 non-science prof, 2 research PI letters, committee letter. To my knowledge, the 2 PI LORs are very strong, and one PI has clout lol
Athletics: 2000 hours D3 athlete across freshmen and sophomore year, had to stop after sophomore year due to injuries, big part of my story regarding mental health
Artistic endeavors: Songwriting/music production…been making rap music for 6 years have 2 full length albums out, multiple music videos, 50,000+ streams, etc.
School list (35 schools, I know it’s a lot, but I’ve already started pre-writing secondaries)

• very high tier: Harvard, Hopkins, Upenn, Columbia, Duke, Stanford, Cornell, Yale, Mt. Sinai, NYU, Mayo, Ucsf, Northwestern, UMich, Pittt, WashU (st.louis), uchicago, Vanderbuilt • Slightly less high tier: Case western, Brown , Emory, Dartmouth, Albert Einstein • Mid tier: Rochester, Stony Brook, UMiami, Tufts, V-tech • “Easier” NY schools: SUNY Upstate, Suny Downstate , Buffalo, Hofstra, NYMC, UAlbany. 

Please let me know what you guys think!

This is a throw away.
Tw: Racism, maybe?
For context, I am POC.
I (21 F) work in an office where communication goes to die. You could send an email three days prior, and it will still not be read. You could talk to someone and be met with constant “I don’t understand” or being talked down to while simultaneously not getting an answer. Half of the times, I give up on verbal communication because we are just talking in circles.
Since being hired, I have quickly realized I am one in a long line of people in my position. My predecessor worked this position for about six months before they moved her. The girl before? Two before she left. The reason? We work with the actual devil (~ 65 F).
This woman is the most vindictive person I have ever met, but according to our boss, she has never been malicious in all the time he’s known her. Let me tell you right now, he must have the world’s most colorful rose-tinted glasses.
According to the other people in the office, she actively seeks to humiliate and hold power over people in my position. Mind you, this isn’t how our work structure is supposed to be framed. Oh, and she definitely makes racially insensitive comments towards anyone she deems below her.
She has asked people if English is a foreign language to them and where they “come from originally”. And apparently, when an African American woman was in my job position, the two of them would fight constantly. She has also thrown papers at people and tried to square up with them in the copy room.
And now that I am in this job position, I have been asked where I come from and if I grew up “here”, meaning the United States. Generally, these aren’t necessarily offensive. But at the time, I had known her for maybe two weeks. When I told my bosses, one took the matter seriously (1) while the other droned on about how she’s the sweetest person he knows (2).
Since the incident, she refused to speak to or even look at me. Everything was via email. Not wanting to stir the pot, I met her where she was and communicated mostly through email. This is where I messed up.
Recently, I sent an email asking that this coworker send me more clear information regarding a request she had. I request information for the office, so it is important to give me the correct info, and as much info as possible.
I double checked with 1, and he said that yes, everyone should be giving me as much info as they can when giving me requests, and that it was okay to send everyone a reminder. I send a reminder to everyone (not just the one person) about this.
Later, she sent me an email with barely any info (like people’s names instead of facilities or offices, some addresses, and no dates for what she needs), and I tell her I need more clear info to be able to process her request.
Well, she showed this email to 2, and he has a “talk” with me. Which is basically just me saying “I’m sorry I misunderstood how the process works” and him saying I was being inappropriate for “telling her how to do her job”.
Apparently I should have taken that info and searched the files myself. He called the info “easily accessible”, and believe me, it was not. I will have to keep digging for it tomorrow and possibly into the next day.
In case you haven’t caught on, that is almost the complete opposite of what 1 told me.
2 also told me I should reach out and try talking to her. I explained she won’t even look at me and he implied it was because I brought up her insensitive comments. I tried to tell him over and over that she would not talk to me. I think I would’ve gotten farther explaining to the wall.
After this meeting, I basically start crying out of frustration. One of my coworkers told me apparently, she does this to everyone in my position and likes making them frustrated and cry.
No wonder everyone quits.
Tl;dr: My maybe-malicious coworker makes everyone quit or gets them fired.

• 🧮 Complex Math: Algebra, Calculus, Geometry, and Statistics.
• 💻 Coding: Algorithms, Data Structures, Python, Java, and more.
• 🎨 3D Modeling: Blender, Autodesk Maya, Unity, and Unreal Engine.
• 📝 Essays: Writing assistance for various subjects.
• 🔬 Bio & Chem: Biology and Chemistry topics covered.
• 📚 History: Historical research and writing support.

Specializing in a wide range of topics to help you excel in your academic pursuits. Reach out for personalized support today! Email; qwriters27@gmail.com discord; dr.nicho

• 🧮 Complex Math: Algebra, Calculus, Geometry, and Statistics.
• 💻 Coding: Algorithms, Data Structures, Python, Java, and more.
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Ayo,
My name is Bread (He/Him) 23 years old. I've been wanting to run Monsterhearts 2 ever since I first learned about it 2 years ago. I attempted to way back when but I was nowhere near experienced enough to run this game how it called for. I needed hard rails or else I was lost. However now after playing and Dming a bunch of different systems and working out how I am as a game master, I think I'm ready to dive in. I will most likely make mistakes and it won't be perfect, however, I feel confident now that I can create a game that I can be proud of.
Some things to keep in mind: (Borrowed from another post I found)
•Keep Your Hearts Safe: Monsterhearts is a system that can deal with heavier topics, such as dysfunctional relationships, teen sexuality, coercive power, trauma, abuse, violence, and queer marginalization. It is a game that encourages us to dive deep into the psychology and mental psyche of the characters. We won't shy away from more difficult subjects and you should be warned of that.
•None May Pierce The Veil: While all I said above is true, we will also have firm red lines that will most likely be established in session 0. This is still a game, primarily intended to be fun. The players and MC will have their chances to express what they are comfortable or not comfortable with. Subjects that fall into the later category will either not be displayed at all in the game or be exclusively fade to black scenes.
Game Synopsis:
You are entering your senior year at River Fork High. Have you been there all 4 years? Are you a new student? Whatever you decide to be one thing is for sure. Your life is messy. Your life is complicated, along with everyone else in this small town we call Sinsdale, Illinois. This town has been around for hundreds of years. A once thriving town centered around the chopping and selling of the finest, and strongest wood in the United States has quickly turned into a shell of its former self. Although you most likely don't care about that. You're just trying to survive high school. The Bullies, the Jocks, the Nerds, the Popular kids. All in their own groups and in their own heads. Where will you find yourselves? Who will you relate to? Who will you try to be?
In any case, how will you fit into not only this school but the entire town? The town that never seemed quite right, that always seemed that no matter how hard or little you looked, it wasn't completely normal. Maybe that is why this particular phrase is used by the oldest or most weary occupants of Sinsdale: Be Back Before Ten.
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While it may seem like I have the entire setting figured out, in reality, all I have figured out is the name of the town and a very brief history that can change. I have the name of the school, and a catchy tagline which depending on what we do in the game can become more real or just stay as it is.
At every step of the way, especially during session 0 I will be asking you questions to fill out the town and the school and overall the world. Im ultimately looking for players who will take risks and initiate drama in the messiest of senses. We will be collaborating in real-time to tell the exaggerated story of these monsters in teen form and if that sounds like a story you are wanting to be a part of, feel free to apply!

• We will be using Discord for voice and cameras are really encouraged but not mandatory. I most likely will be using a webcam. What is important is a quality enough mic.

-We will be using Roll20 to roll.
-This game is 18+ Only
-I am leaning towards not allowing custom skins but am still mulling it over.
If all that sounds good to you. Please fill out the form here and I will get back to you when I can to talk over voice! https://forms.gle/Zc2tGsqYUPvd9c4d7

I’m considering putting in my two week notice on the weekend of June 1 or 2 in order to received medical insurance for the month of June. If my employer decides to make my termination effective immediately, can they backdate my termination to May 31 or will my benefits for June be safe if I submit notice my email the weekend of June 1 or 2? Thanks for your input!

I don’t want to rant out of frustration but this may go there. I also have a few sincere questions out of concern and need for my own awareness. I started selling in 2011 and was an early ambassador (lol when it meant something and you had to be accountable and apologize for selling a swimsuit that was nwot to earn that status) so I’ve seen some things…
like when all party invites came from that one poor employee who the newb karens ripped to shreds because they did not understand how automated invites worked or that they could unsubscribe from emails. LOL.
I never dreamt I would see the romper room messy bs that these live shows have brought. Holy untreated mental illness Batman. I have read up on changes to the algo and pretty much the basics of how to please the gods and things are going decently. If anyone reads this and wants to mentor me counsel me or offer tips grace or support I’d honestly welcome it. But wow I’ve been blown away at the expectations of people. And at some of the low key judgment toward resellers. Why is that? It’s kind of amazing the way that this platform has lost a sense of decorum I’m guessing due to the lack of support for sellers. Buyers are privy to way more information about most of these items than they are what they buy online and even in some stores. Yet ask questions of sellers that are so out of pocket and with very little frame of reference. So many aspects of clothing are subject to wearer that it’s difficult to answer things like “how does this fit” and that’s a fave. When a stock photo and measurements are given? Figure it out! 🤦‍♀️ if you’re short it’s prob gonna be long hun. And I do NOT talk like that. But a few days back on this app of getting questions like “is that the sheen on the pants or do they fit that tight” when the measurements, stock photos, fabric content and multiple other photos of the fabric in various lighting are listed. I feel like adults should be able to not have to make me ask them how thick their thighs are and compare it to the measurement in the listing for them. That is my time and it is worth money. Sorry but that’s just capitalism? I did not choose it. I’m sorry these basic skills are so allusive. People literally don’t know how to measure their own clothes and compare though?
Is this the experience others have had in current years and how do you handle these people who seem to not understand how clothes work?
Then there are the people who repeatedly make the same lowball offer. And insist on commenting that they made an offer when the offer was extremely low. I’ve got one who I want to block because she’s being rude about it and in her about section it says “NOT a reseller just selling clothes my family doesn’t wear anymore.” That’s technically reselling babe. When did the virtue signaling like begin??. And if it’s some “I have a real job” flex that is for one thing extremely ableist and I would like to say check your privilege to anyone in that camp before you come at me. She has had time to comment on my listing all day demanding I respond to her offer and give more info. 🧐 Not a reseller yet she has been on here for several years and has made over 600 sales. Cool beans tell me more. Ok now I’m ranting sorry.
I have gotten so many questions that could have been answered so much faster had they googled it or by using that handy image search function. Or by searching for similar listings and seeing that info listed elsewhere. I realize this makes me sound like a lazy or unresponsive/bad seller but I’ve just been swamped since getting my closet back up and going. That definitely does not mean I’m rolling in sales. I have not bought bots I’m trying to just get measurements on all the listings and develop my inventory. Again. People seem to behave like they are helpless and are impatient with their questions. Is it the clientele these days? Is it because they can? Am I the problem lol Will it get better or do I need to resign? Why does it seem like even the people who sell don’t have empathy for fellow sellers like they used to? How do they draw a line between seller and reseller if they literally are making offers to these resellers reaping the benefits of their work? We are all trying our best because we literally need money to survive. Why do these people act like we owe them so much of our time when they aren’t even going to make a purchase? That screen sure ups the audacity. Poshmark has strayed so far from where it started. But the utter lack of altruism. It feels like I’ve only encountered trolls since my return.